Dungeon Memoirs
by Leonhardted Girl
Summary: The Gryffindors and the Slytherins always, always have potions together, resulting in Rose Weasley sharing a desk with Scorpius Malfoy, a shy, lanky first year with a stutter and muggle braces. There are many things Rose will learn in potions class: the use of bezoars, antidotes and solutions galore, and why Scorpius Malfoy flinches upon hearing his surname. Scorose.


Somehow, some way, Gryffindors and Slytherins always ended up having potions class together. It became ritual: the lions with the snakes, and the eagles with the badgers.

Potions had made Rose nervous. Her mother was a genius through and through, achieving top marks in all of her classes (minus Defence Against the Dark Arts), and she was rumoured to be particularly talented with potion making, as she was so kindly reminded upon her first lesson in the dungeons.

"Rose Weasley!" Professor Slughorn bellowed as she entered his classroom, prompting her to freeze on the spot, her ears turning red. "Daughter of Hermione Granger, or so I've heard! And your father, what was his name? Rupert?"

"Ronald, sir. Ron Weasley." Rose offered, quick to take a seat at the very back of the classroom.

"Ah, yes! Ronald Wenby-"

"Weasley-"

"Your mother really was a truly talented potions making. Does she still practice at home?"

"All the time. She makes the Draught of Peace the most, to calm me and my brother down after argu-"

"I expect you'll be as brilliant as she, in that case!" Slughorn chortled to himself, leaving Rose to wonder how he was still active enough to be a potions master. He had to be approaching one-hundred, at the very least. Fortunately, Slughorn's attention was diverted elsewhere when Rose's cousin, Albus, charged into the classroom, red-faced and untidy.

"Am I late?" He babbled, fixing his wonky glasses. His cauldron swung carelessly at his elbow, bashing against the door frame as he cleaned himself up. "I was sure I was going to be late- first herbology lesson, came in late and Uncle Nev- uh, Professor Longbottom wasn't happy."

He carried on spouting nonsense to himself, straightening his striped green tie as he sat down.

"Albus Potter!" Slughorn cheered, ignoring the rest of the students who filtered into the classroom. "I still remember the very first day your father walked into this classroom-"

Albus, unlike Rose and his older brother James, relished in the attention he received for being a Potter-Weasley child. He took his seat right at the front of the classroom, thoroughly enjoying Slughorn's monologue on his father's prowess and his mother's exceptional bat-bogey hexes.

"I'm sure I'll do just as well." He grinned toothily. "I'm also nephew to Hermione Granger, and she was the best in her year-"

"Son to Harry Potter, nephew to Hermione Granger!" Slughorn chuckled, and off he went again.

The rest of the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years slipped into the classroom unnoticed. Some were just as enamoured with Albus as Slughorn was. Others simply kept their heads down. Rose wasn't paying too much attention to her surroundings, too busy daydreaming about what her first charms lesson would be like, until a lanky boy tapped at her shoulder.

"Excuse me," he cleared his throat, looking terribly anxious. "But is this seat taken?" He asked, motioning to the seat beside Rose.

He was reasonably tall. Most notably, he was pale and pointy, with a long, angular nose and thin lips, and slate grey eyes that reminded Rose of storm clouds, the kind that brewed over The Burrow after long summers. His hair was floppy and messy – perhaps even scruffier than her own – seeming white in colour. Platinum.

"No, go ahead." Rose pulled the stool out for him and he sat down. She couldn't help but look straight to his tie, wondering whether he was a Gryffindor or a Slytherin, because he didn't seem like the type to fit in either house. His black and white uniform was accented with green and silver, much to her surprise. He didn't seem cunning or ambitious or even traditional. "What's your name?" She asked, pushing her own nerves aside in favour of indulging her curiousity.

"S-Scorpius." The boy replied, speaking in murmurs and mumbles. "You're Rose, aren't you? Rose Weasley?"

Rose blinked. "Oh," she uttered. "You're the boy from the platform."

"The platform?"

Rose's dad had pointed Scorpius out just before she boarded the train.

 _So that's little Scorpius. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains._

"I saw you on nine-and-three-quarters. Sorry, that sounds weird. My parents knew who you were." She flashed him a small smile. "Didn't mean to creep you out or anything."

Scorpius faltered for a second, opening his mouth before closing it again, resembling the little goldfish Nanna Granger had bought Hugo for his fifth birthday. "S-So your parents know me." He muttered. "...I'll go sit somewhere else, if you'd like-"

"No." Rose interrupted him. "You can sit here." He seemed like a nice enough boy, Slytherin or not, and her mother had always told her to reserve judgement until it's possible to make an accurate calculation of a person's character. She didn't really feel like beating him. "Scorpius Malfoy, yeah?"

Scorpius flinched visibly, his thin shoulders tightening. "...Yes." He nodded cautiously, his dull eyes searching hers.

"It's nice to meet you." Rose offered her hand, and the two of them shook on it.

"The pleasure's mine." The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Scorpius' lips.

Slughorn finally calmed down enough to begin his first lesson with the new additions to Gryffindor and Slytherin. He smiled sadly, clasping his hands together at the front of the classroom.

"How I wish I'd accepted the role of Slytherin Head this year..." He sighed morosely. "Without further ado, welcome to your first potions lesson! Have any of you finished your required reading yet?"

Rose and Scorpius both raised their hands, along with a few other students, Albus not included.

"Excellent, excellent. Shall we get started?" Slughorn mused, before strolling over to his desk and, with great difficulty, bending over to pull out a cauldron from underneath it. "If you would please place your cauldrons upon your desks. Before we even consider making potions, we're going to learn about potioneering theory and cauldrons."

Rose pulled her cauldron up onto her desk, pulling out her copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions,_ as well as a few other books she was storing in there. Scorpius did the same, before searching around in his satchel for a set of fragile crystal phials.

"I know he said we won't be needing them for a while, but just in case." He shrugged.

Rose gave him a shrug of her own, wondering if she'd be sharing any more classes with the heir of House Malfoy. Pleasant company was something she was struggling to find, between the growing number of Potter-Weasley children attending Hogwarts, and the fact that she was never recognised as her own person, only as the daughter and niece of four prestigious war heroes. Perhaps Scorpius had the same issue, being the only heir to House Malfoy.

"You know," Rose hummed to herself, swinging her legs from her stool. "I think I'm going to like potions. What about you?"

Scorpius chewed lightly on his lower lip. "Perhaps. Yes. Though I much prefer charms."

"You've already started?"

"Mm. It's interesting."

The pair almost forgot to take notes, becoming a little too engrossed in a discussion over charms and what the professor was like, and what Rose's first lesson would be like. They pulled parchment and ink from their bags, and Scorpius gave Rose a quill after she realised she'd left all of hers back in the Gryffindor common room.

"Y-You can keep it." He quickly added, stuttering again. Rose nodded, mumbling a "thanks" as she dipped the quill in ink. It was fancy – long, with a silver nib and a white feather – nothing her parents would ever let her buy normally. They were against day-to-day extravagance. Special quills and high-quality ink were reserved for birthdays, Christmases, and the most important of Hermione's essays and speeches on house elf welfare. Nevertheless, their first potions class ended with Rose thinking she'd have to go and buy another pot of ink before the week was done. Her notes were messier than usual (not that they were ever neat to begin with) and she found herself writing more than was necessary, going into extensive detail on pewter cauldron history for the sake of writing with her pretty new quill.

Slughorn eventually dismissed his class, making a beeline to Albus' table, where he sat with a tall Slytherin girl, whose smile seemed to split her face in two.

"I suppose I'll see you around." Rose assumed, pushing herself off her stool. She hauled her cauldron off her desk, struggling slightly, before replacing her books in its hollowed centre, along with her notes and stationary.

Scorpius nodded, standing tall and straight, and Rose suddenly realised how much shorter she was in comparison. She'd inherited many things from her father, including his fiery hair and pale complexion, but his height and his freckles were two of the things she'd been unfortunate enough to miss out on. Hugo hadn't, much to her chagrin. Scorpius collected his own supplies, waiting until she was halfway across the classroom before asking "do you like quidditch?" in a small voice.

Rose turned on her heel, looking back at him. A smile spread across her lips. "You're looking at one of Gryffindor's future beaters." She beamed, and he smiled back. It was small grin, but small was better than nothing.

"Slytherin's future keeper." He flashed his teeth as he smiled, all pearly and white and full of metal. Rose wondered how and why a pure blooded wizard would end up wearing muggle braces, instead of resorting to magic-based dentistry. Her maternal grandparents were muggle dentists, meaning that she and Hugo (as well as the rest of the Potter-Weasley children) were subjected to routine check-ups. But a Malfoy, no less- it was perculiar. She didn't ask him about it, deciding she'd simply have to wait until their next potions class. "Possibly." Scorpius added, becoming somewhat doubtful of himself following Rose's accidental lapsing in thought. "Hopefully."

"We'll see." Rose said. "Perhaps Slytherins and Gryffindors have quidditch together too."


End file.
